She began to exercise those lures which were bred in her bone—the bones of all women. "It is the fiend!" she exclaimed, recoiling. ‘That’s just it. "He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter. He was by no means certain that she would not in fact attempt to blow off his head as she had threatened. ‘She means thanks to you, General,’ Gerald translated automatically, forgetful of his old commander’s fiery temper. You have told me that you cared. ‘That—that—why do you speak of him?’ ‘Because I feel you ought to know,’ Gerald said calmly, but rising and watching her closely, ‘that all your trouble may be in vain. Leonardo had not taught her to do so. She felt she was now near her boy, and, nothing doubting her ability to rescue him from his perilous situation, she breathed a fervent prayer for his deliverance; and bending her steps towards the tavern in question, revolved within her mind as she walked along the best means of accomplishing her purpose.
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